Careless
by Jassic M
Summary: He didn't mean to return the favor. He didn't want to. You had to believe him. (Will and Mac - angst, song fic to George Michael's Careless Whisper.)


Summary: He didn't mean to return the favor. He didn't want to. You had to believe him. (Will and Mac - angst, song fic to George Michael's _Careless Whisper_.)

Author's Notes: A few throwbacks from some of Aaron Sorkin's other works can be found.

* * *

For this year's anniversary party, Charlie Skinner decided that the people of News Night with Will McAvoy would have a classy celebration. Classy, in the sense that there will be none of those Rockband games, cheap booze or drugged deserts.

(Will delivered the news well enough during the Bin Laden night. Charlie just didn't want to risk Leona having another incident against the anchor.)

So, despite the groans and collective pleas of these young staffers, they were all here, dressed up, champagne flutes on hand, chatting the night away. He wanted to take a picture, compose an e-mail right there and then, and tell them all, "Look at how nice you people are."

Of course, that would never happen- he gave strict instructions for all devices to be surrendered at the entrance.

(He realises this makes him really old, and he has every right to. He has seen the changes right before his eyes, and these people deserve to have a taste of the splendour the classics have.)

Besides, this setting seemed to be appropriate, and these youngsters were fools if they did not at least attribute this party to the fact that, finally! Will McAvoy and Mackenzie MacHale were officially together. Again. Charlie Skinner can once again, work in peace.

After all, who were they kidding? How many times did Will leave the anchor's desk fifteen full minutes after the show ended? How many days did Mac insist on wearing a silly scarf because "It's chilly here?" How many "closed door meetings" did they have in Will's bathroom?

They really weren't fooling anyone.

And there they were, Mackenzie, in a beautiful red satin gown, perhaps in her happiest in all these years in ACN. Her lips would coil into a smile that would light up her face, her laughter full of mirth. She was at peace.

Beside her, stood Will, who-

Whose lips smile, but the happiness cannot seem to reach his blue eyes.

Charlie mutters a quick prayer, asking the powers that be, that things be well and right.

* * *

Martin nudged Gary, who in turn, scanned the area and and gave the signal to Kahled - who began hitting on the keys of his Macbook. Charlie Skinner was nowhere to be seen, and their daring group took the risk of Charlie's wrath in order to spice up the party.

The boys felt the need to be cupids at this point in time, seeing that a few members of the news crew needed a little push (or a hard shove) to the right direction. What better place to initiate intimacy than this classy party Charlie had set up? They just needed to give the proper atmosphere. So, the lights dimmed, the disco ball became functional and soon the ballroom became a place for, well, sensual things to happen.

Neal and Kahled (supervised by Martin and Gary), were in control.

And so far, their fellow News Night-ers appreciated their efforts, even gave their approvals by way of thumbs up and claps. The boys nodded their heads, savouring their efforts of saving this party.

Charlie Skinner's F-bombs be damned.

So when the mood settled down, Kahled opened up tonight's playlist. The first song called for some seductive dancing from ACN's leading power couple.

Don/Jim/Maggie/Sloan would have a song of their own later.

The opening saxophone rift blasted from the speakers, and the crowd was calling for the anchor and the executive producer to dance.

* * *

_I feel so unsure_

_As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor_

_As the music dies, something in your eyes_

_Calls to mind a silver screen and all those sad goodbyes_

It was the satin gown. No, it was champagne. Maybe, it was the way she looked so concentrated in dancing this slow dance.

Whatever it was, Mackenzie MacHale looked more ravishing tonight.

_(That was definitely the champagne talking.)_

_(Or was it - No, it can't be.)_

Will put up a manly show of "No, I am not going to dance to this song, it's not appropriate", followed by "Please choose a more appropriate song." There were small cheers, some whistles, and there he was, shaking his head and taking a few more sips from his glass. He looks at Mac, and then suddenly. all his valiant efforts failed. Mac's biting her lip, head cocked to one side, and - oh no, she's starting to sway to the music.

Right now he's making a mental list of the people who will feel his wrath this coming Monday. After they receive Charlie's.

So, he does as the song says, he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. Thank you, George Michael, for right now, the ravishing Mackenzie MacHale was in his arms, and the two of them were swaying to his voice.

After a few, admittedly awkward shuffle steps, he steals a glance at Mac, and as soon as he does, the low whistles and cheers disappeared. All because Mac was looking at him, her sly smile definitely for him, and Will can't help but smiling back. He clasped the hand holding hers tighter and felt the missing ring in her finger. Had not his stupid pride get in the way, she could have been wearing the ring that told the world, "I am his wife, he is my husband." Or maybe the engagement ring he bought years in advance; as Dr. Habib would tell during their sessions.

He made up his mind that the two of them did not deserve to spend the rest of their lives wallowing in sadness and what-might-have-beens. They've had other lovers, some interesting, some not worth even mentioning. The end of each relationship was a result of a comparison between the current partner and the partner they had in their minds.

And when they did get back together - secretly of course - Will pushed himself, keen to take of their minds the mistakes of the past. Mackenzie didn't ask for it, but she was relieved. Sure, sometimes the guilt would come back, but they both agreed to lock up the chapters they had of the many Brians and Wades, the countless models.

This was the new chapter of William and Mackenzie.

Right now, they could be dancing as Mr. and Mrs. McAvoy, and not as the two tabloid fodder lovebirds from ACN.

All because he let his damn pride get in the way.

_(Are you sure about that McAvoy? Your pride got in the way?)_

_(Your baby blues say a different thing.)_

_(Okay then, if you say so.)_

* * *

_I'm never gonna dance again_

_Guilty feet have got no rhythm_

_Though it's easy to pretend_

_I know you're not a fool_

Mac giggles, because once upon a time, Will was a fairly good dancer, he knew how to dip and twirl at the correct times, which could pass off as professional dancing. But right now, he was just shuffling, his hips going left and right.

Her giggling got a bit louder when when Will had this look of pure concentration in his face. "More champagne, Mr. McAvoy?" she joked when he had a small misstep.

"Nah, I'm good. It's just..."

His face actually paused, trying to find the appropriate words. But his hips were still swaying.

"Just?"

He groans, gives up. "Sexy. This song is sexy."

Mac this time, tries not to giggle.

Will tries to explain. "This song is appropriate for a striptease done pre-coitus, preferably in the comfort of their own boudoir."

"So, are you saying you'll strip for me?"

"Don't I always strip for you?"

"There's no sexy background music involved."

And at this the two of them laughed.

* * *

Sex, banging, fucking, making love. Whatever it was called, they were doing it. They were no strangers to each other's bodies, but after the years since they last did it, there were so many changes.

For one thing, Will was no longer as flexible as previously thought. Some positions caused discomfort, others downright pain. He attributes it to lack of exercise, improper diet and sitting down in an anchor's desk, being bored out of his mind, night after night. He may or may not be up to date with the latest updates to the items of the Kama Sutra - give him time, he can learn.

He would, however, insist that he didn't have the right partner.

Mac, on the other hand. Well.

The first night they were back in each others' arms, the passion was there, demanding that it be addressed. Clothes were coming off quickly, kisses and moans exchanged - they were undecided if they should savour the moment or jump off this cliff they were on.

That was until his hands touched the scar on her abdomen.

Will paused, perplexed over the rough patch on her skin. He remembers it being smooth.

"Will..."

"Let me."

His eyes scan over some marks, scars - small, "They're nothing", she says - clear evidence of what she's been through. He kneels in front of her, and he sees the scar clearly.

She laughs softly. "Years ago, I looked worse. Bruises, all that running and hiding and - oh..."

Will had started kissing her wound, lightly at first, and then a bit harder, as if kissing it will make it disappear. He kisses the other parts of her, in his mind's eye, he can see her reporting news and dodging danger the best way she can. He could see her trying her best to not be in pain, and when she fails, he can her screaming and crying.

She would have not felt these. She doesn't deserve these.

Peabodies were Peabodies, but he wanted to take those away if it meant the pain never happened.

Damn you McAvoy.

She stops him, kneels in front of him, and kisses him, chastely.

"It's happened. It's in the past. It doesn't hurt now, and it won't hurt ever again."

"I'm sorry Mackenzie..."

He doesn't call her Mackenzie unless it either bothers him or makes him happy.

"Oh Billy..."

That night was just the start of hundreds of intimate nights they shared.

* * *

And now, they were currently in front of colleagues and friends, and now would not be the right time to be frisky. But all Will wanted to right then was give everything he had just so that he and Mac can go away to her room. And then he'd do what she just asked.

Mac must have read his mind, as she moved closer to him, slightly stopping him from his awkward dance.

"Mac..." he started.

"Would you rather tap dance Will?"

A smile. "I think I can do something better."

_(Of course you can McAvoy. You're brilliant at dancing. Your partner was so thrilled.)_

_(Oh. Wait. Not this partner.)_

* * *

_I should have known better than to cheat a friend_

_And waste the chance that I'd been given_

_So I'm never gonna dance again_

_The way I danced with you_

At the corner of his eye, Will could see a flustered Charlie berating Neal and Kahled. He smiles. They now learned what it was like to mess with Charlie, and it's not likely they'd do it again.

"Everyone else seems to enjoy this party... Except for the Wonderboys there," Will said as he gave a nod towards the group. He turned the two of them, to let Mac see the commotion. She smiled, as she saw how low the boys' heads were bowed and how high Charlie's eyebrows got when he was enraged.

She laughed, oh her sweet laugh and then she touched his cheek. He held it against his lips and kissed her palm.

"Well, funny things happen when one turns one's back."

He froze.

_(Oh, snap McAvoy. She's on to you.)_

_(You be careful now.)_

* * *

_Time can never mend_

_The careless whispers of a good friend_

_To the heart and mind_

_Ignorance is kind_

_And there's no comfort in the truth_

_Pain is all you'll find_

It was a fight, just a small fight,nothing more.

_(You were shouting at each other, McAvoy.)_

This was a news item of importance, and as usual, they had a bit of disagreement as to how it should be handled.

_(You knew she was right, McAvoy.)_

The other news shows could probably do worse, and he thought they handled it just right.

_(Why were you so edgy anyway, McAvoy?)_

And the fight lasted to the wee hours of morning, when she was about to leave for another conference.

_(You should have said sorry, McAvoy.)_

No calls, no texts, not even professional emails - Cal got those.

_(Pick up the phone, open Outlook, tell her, McAvoy.)_

They could have picked a time and place to fight. Not now when Mac is away for a week for that teaching conference, when she was in another country.

_(Whose lips are you kissing, McAvoy?)_

* * *

"Will?" he hears her voice when he answers the phone.

His heart almost stopped.

"I'm sorry..."

He looks at his left.

He swallows.

"No Mackenzie... I'm sorry... I should've..."

Eyes close. Open, and damn - the curve of the hips? Still there.

"No. No Mackenzie... It was neither you nor I... It was the burrito's fault."

He hears her laugh, though miles away.

"Well. Let's just promise that we won't eat anything Charlie offers us."

He laughs. It was a nervous laugh.

"I'm just packing up... Will be there soon..."

He smiles. He's fully awake now.

"Oh yes please."

"I love you."

He accidentally ended the call.

_(Where's your "I love you", McAvoy?)_

_(Since when were you seeing this other woman, McAvoy?)_

_(Was it all an accident, McAvoy?)_

_(Isn't Mackenzie good enough anymore, McAvoy?)_

_(Why didn't you tell me, Will?)_

* * *

_Tonight the music seems so loud_

_I wish that we could lose the crowd_

_Maybe it's better this way_

_We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say_

Whether or not the party was a success, they'll never know. Will and Mac left early, when Charlie finally allowed for some "club style" party to commence. The last they saw of their team, Neal had full control of the DJ booth, and then everyone was dancing, arms akimbo.

Everything was all right in their world.

The ride home was spent mainly laughing over jokes, correcting assumptions of team members, and silence, enjoying each other's company.

Now, Mac was leaning on Will, sleeping soundly, and at peace. Will had content himself with holding her close, cheek resting on her head, wondering what could she be dreaming of.

He looked up, and saw Lonny's eyes, judging him from the mirror.

He saw his bodyguard shake his head, and continued on driving to their destination.

They pulled up to Will's place, and when he tried to carry her, Mac woke up and smiled at him.

"You've done quite enough for today, Sir McAvoy," she said and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. She took his hand, and led the way towards the place they both called home.

For most of the night's events, it was Mac who took the lead. The dance, the drinks, the words. Despite her being this firecracker of an executive producer, she still held the balance of his world.

Their world. Come Saturday evening, it will be finally their world.

Yes, Jake Habib, Will McAvoy will propose to Mackenzie MacHale. Happy now?

They step in to the elevator. Will moves closer, jokingly leans his whole weight against her, muttering incoherent things about being tired and wanting to go to sleep. Mac laughs again, catches Lonny looking at Will, probably thinking, "I cannot believe I am guarding the life of this man-child."

They reach his penthouse. Will turns to Lonny, tries to dismiss him with a wave of his hand, and when he still there, WIll tells him that he'd rather not have his wingman witness what they were about to do.

Lonny replies, "You are drunk, McAvoy."

Will reaches for the door, but it's unlocked. Mac saw it too.

Lonny signals for them to step back, and draws out his service firearm from the holster.

He steps in, quiet as a mouse, clearing out areas. Will follows, despite Mac telling him otherwise.

There's light coming in from Will's room, and there's the smell of... Candles?

The males walk into the room.

"Oh, there you are Billy... Did you miss me?"

Mac takes a peek inside.

The females meet each other's gaze.

"This must be Mac." says one.

The other doesn't say a word.

* * *

_We could have been so good together_

_We could have lived this dance forever_

_But now who's gonna dance with me?_

_Please stay_

On the way up, to his office, Charlie rode with Neal Sampat, who he could have sworn he had forgiven for last Friday's sudden change of party plans. Still, the young man did not meet his gaze, and may have yelped when Charlie gave him a pat on the back and told him to "do a job".

Did he really inspire that much fear?

He just shook his head and smiled to himself; these young people nowadays confused the hell out of him.

Anyway. The sun was shining, the day had a promising start, and things were all right in the world.

So you can only imagine his surprise when he saw Mackenzie MacHale was inside his office; eyes puffy and red. She was visibly shaking.

"Mac?"

She stammered, flustered, words were trying to come out, but tears volunteered when nothing came.

Charlie reached out to her, hugged her tight as she tried to control the sobbing.

"I didn't know... Who else... To..."

The soothing continued. "Ssshhh. Breathe, Mackenzie... You can cry, or talk it out... Just... Breathe..."

Mackenzie tried her best to tell the story, her side at least. From what Charlie can make out, there was another woman, naked as the day she was born, on Will's bed the night they went home from the party.

There had to be something more.

* * *

That afternoon, he summoned for Lonny, and he made him tell everything that he knew.

"CLIENT CONFIDENTIALITY MY ASS CHURCH, YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT WILL HAS BEEN UP TO IN THAT RICH ASS PENTHOUSE HE HAS, OR I SWEAR, I WILL BREAK YOU SO HARD YOU WILL CRY YOUR TESTICLES OUT!"

It took some level of convincing, and a couple of well delivered swear words for Lonny Church to tell everything that he knew.

In the end, it still didn't make any sense to Charlie.

* * *

"I'm Will McAvoy, good night."

The credits haven't even begun to roll when Will yanked out the plug and headed straight to the bullpen. He had no intention of talking to anyone, just Mac.

He came inside only to find a near empty office, and Charlie seated.

"We need to talk Will."

_(How could you do it? To her. Especially to her. After all she'd gone through.)_

This much Charlie knew: every time Will had a fight with Mac, he went to a brunette named Samantha and spent time with her. What they did, Lonny could not say - he was just around the area, really. Will tried calling her, went to her apartment, to the places she would frequent. He reached out to friends and family, but during the weekend, she was not to be found.

_(Was it a slip of resolve? Boredom? What was it?)_

What Charlie wanted to know: Who she was. How did Will meet her. Exactly how long had it been going on. Was William Duncan McAvoy out of his fucking mind.

_(Did you feel the need to hurt her the way she hurt you?)_

This much Will knew: he had ended it with Samantha, after bouts of conscience and sleepless nights, he had told her, "This ends now." When he came in this morning, he had prayed to every possible god he could think of, to let her be there. And she was, according to the team. He let her have some time to breathe. He had laid out what he wanted to say, and yet, with every statement came a question. He wasn't thinking straight during their first few fights. Why did he seek someone like her out? Did some sick part of him still wanted Mac to feel the pain he felt when she cheated on him?

_(Hasn't she suffered enough?)_

What Will wanted to know: "Tell me where she is Charlie."

_(How dare you promise an ever after.)_

What Charlie could only say: "Give her time Will."

_(She doesn't deserve you.)_

They were both thinking the same thing anyway.

* * *

_So I'm never gonna dance again_

_The way I danced with you_

"Thanks for watching us. I'm Will McAvoy, good night."

"Good show-"

He never let Cal finish the sentence.

He walked past faces and voices, none of them hers.

He walked past an office, her office, but right now, the name plate read "Cal Shanley".

Finally he was in his office. Charlie was waiting for him there, leaning on his desk, twiddling his thumbs.

"Good show, Will."

He mutters a "Thanks." Will grabs for his portfolio, his bag and then heads for the door.

He tries one more time.

"Tell me where she is."

Charlie sighs, and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry Will."

Will McAvoy looks at his boss - no, his friend's eyes.

"I fucked up."

Charlie walks to him.

"Don't give up on her. She never did."

His hands grip tighter on the portfolio.

"Maybe this time, she did." he said, as a way of saying "Good night."


End file.
